Tali, Tequila and Treasued Memories
by ladyd10
Summary: This is the second time posting this because it didn't load right the first time. For those that reviewed, thanks! Hopefully, this time it will load in it's entirety. Ziva still mourns the loss of her baby sister. This year Tony knows and wants to help.


_**Tali, Tequila and Treasured Memories**_

_**A/N: I had wanted this out far earlier than now, but life became very, very real when I woke up the morning after beginning this fic. (March 12) I wrote about 5 pages worth before I went to sleep. When I woke up the following morning I had three voicemail messages from the nursing home my mom was in. I called them as soon as I was coherent and I was gently, tenderly and very kindly informed that my mom had passed away in her sleep. She bugged me the night before for one of her favorite treats (pazckis and Cuban coffee...which I promised to bring her on the weekend...this was Tuesday. I needed to get to the Polish part of Chicago to get her favorite Paczkis. She never got them.) She passed away during that night. **_

_**My mom addicted me to crime procedurals, Criminal Minds and the CSI franchise. I, in turn, hooked her on NCIS. She loved the fact that I write/wrote fan fiction for both franchises and use my love of language to tell stories and entertain.**_

_**So, while this is about Ziva and Tali, this fic is dedicated to my mom, LaVerne. Ziva may raise a shot of tequila for her sister, but, for mom, this is toasted with a good Islay Scotch, her favorite. I love you and miss you mommy.**_

_**For my Mommy.**_

Ziva wiped at the tears that had silently stained her cheeks as the last strains of the Puccini opera died away into silence. It was not often that the bullpen was so quiet, but on this Thanksgiving weekend night, it was and she was glad for it. She had been weeping for the better part of an hour and needed no one to see it. True, she had drastically changed in the most fundamental of ways after being brought home from Africa, being softer and more open with her feelings in some ways, but she wanted to keep this grief, this private grief, private.

She smiled slightly, a sweet, yet pained expression. "Happy Birthday, my Tali. I will always love you more than the number of grains of sand on all the beaches on Earth and more than all the stars in the heavens," she whispered softly, taking a tissue and wiping her eyes.

Turning off the sound system, she grabbed her coat and headed into the Ladies Room to check her modest make-up for signs of a much needed touch up. She splashed cold water on her face, soaking a paper towel in cold water and holding it over her eyes for a few moments before reapplying her make up and making her way to the elevator and outside, where the chill November wind had picked up and there was a smell of snow in the air. Shivering slightly, he pulled her collar tighter and ducked her head. Although she truly had no desire to join the rest of the team at Gibbs' home for the holiday dinner, she dutifully steered her uncharacteristically music free car toward that exact destination, determined not to disappoint anyone.

Pulling up outside Gibbs' place, she shut off the engine and took a long minute to make certain that her tear tracks had disappeared and her eyes were no longer as red as they had been. Her time spent in the Ladies Room had done it's trick. Only the faintest redness shadowed her dark orbs and it would take a mind reader to tell that it was from tears and not from staring at her computer monitor for too long. She glanced into the front windows from her safe vantage point, marking the gaiety displayed like a Currier and Ives print inside that glowing bright rectangle of Americana.

She wondered what Tali would say if she were still alive and knew of Ziva's new citizenship status, no longer an Israeli, but an Israeli-American. Would she be proud and hug her, the perfect, brilliant smile on her face that Ziva remembered so well, or would she frown and not understand why Ziva had so chosen to do what she did and leave the country of her birth behind. She hoped that Tali would have smiled and been proud of her. Before she could tear up again, she reached into her back seat and took out the double gift bag of wine she had bought a few days ago.

The door was always unlocked, so she didn't even bother to knock. She pushed it open and quietly entered, slightly overwhelmed by all the light and sound. Gibbs was poking at the fire in his fireplace, Abby bubbling something cheerful in the kitchen, Ducky telling one of his inexhaustible tales to Jimmy and Breena and McGee and Tony having a friendly argument over the best side dish-stuffing or green bean casserole.

She slid her coat off and hung it on the coat rack before putting a large smile on her face. "Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!" she announced, even though the cheerfulness sounded forced to her own ears.

"Ziva, you made it!" Abby gushed, rushing from the kitchen to her friend and engulfing her in an enthusiastic hug, even though she only last seen her a couple of hours previous. "I'm so glad you're here! Happy Thanksgiving!"

"Thank you, Abby."

"Abs, let her all the way in, would ya?" Gibbs said, good naturedly, before giving his newest Agent a little hug. He looked her over. Something was off. She seemed a bit sad. "Everything alright, Ziver?" he asked softly.

Damn, that man could be so perceptive when she absolutely did not need him to be. "I am fine, Gibbs."

He gave her a stern look. "Uh-huh." in that tone that said that he didn't believe her the slightest bit, but was going to let it go to be picked up and examined at another time.

Tony, to Ziva's grand relief, chose that moment to approach with a full glass of white wine. He held it out to her, noting the slight redness and puffiness around her eyes, knowing how difficult the day had been for her. "Here, thought you might want this."

She took it with a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, again, Tony," she said, taking a large mouthful of the sweet pinot, it's warmth spreading through her as she made her way, Tony not daring to leave her side, into the dining room. She put on the cheerful front again. "Hello, what have I missed?"

Breena beamed at her. "Dr. Mallard-"

"Ducky, my dear."

"Ducky was just telling me the most fascinating story about a golf game..."

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

On any other night, Ziva would have revelled in the warmth and camaraderie of her new family, but that night, she just wanted to go home. She made certain to eat a goodly amount and made sure to drink her usual, but, though she laughed and engaged in most of the conversation, her heart wasn't in it. Truth be told, her heart was nearly 6,000 miles away in a shady cemetery near her family's country home. Only half-feigning her exhaustion, she made her farewells.

"Oh, Ziva, do you have to leave so soon?" Abby asked, hugging her friend, yet again. She couldn't help it. For some reason, Ziva seemed to need extra hugs that day.

Ziva swallowed hard before replying. "I am...tired. It has been a very long case and-"

"It's bringing up memories and issues for you?" Abby asked quietly, tugging Ziva into a quiet corner of the kitchen. "About, you know?"

Ziva nodded. "Something like that. Abby, I am fine, really. I just need a little alone time, is all," Ziva told her. Abby and Tali would have adored each other. Both so creative and free-spirited souls. "I promise to tell you sometime."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

Ziva gave her a small, genuine smile. "I know you will."

She made her way back through the living room after being piled with a generous portion of the leftover holiday meal and extra pie, because, as Abby pointed out to her, you could never have too much holiday pie. She was gently stopped by Gibbs. "You need to talk about anything, you know where I'll be."

"I know. There is a block of sandpaper and a boat rib that has my name on it, as well as a listening ear and a jelly jar ready for a little bourbon, should the occasion call for it," Ziva assured him, giving him a small smile and a gentle, almost shy, hug and a soft kiss to the cheek. "I will be fine in the morning."

"If you're not-"

"I know. Boat and sanding. Happy Thanksgiving, Gibbs. I love you."

Despite his misgivings on her unsettled state, he hugged her back, placing a paternal kiss to her hairline. "Love you, too, Ziver."

Ziva shrugged her coat on and was surprised to see Tony doing the same. "Leaving so early? I'd have thought you'd be staying for the Twister tournament. Abby has been talking of nothing else for days."

Tony gave her one of his rakish smiles. "Naw, if you're leaving, where's my competition?"

"What about Abby?"

"She'll love beating Palmer and Breena." Tony shook his head as he called his final farewells and walked Ziva to her car. "Okay, your place or mine?"

Ziva raised an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?"

"This day has been extremely hard for you. I'm not leaving you to be alone tonight, so are we going to my place or are we going to yours?" He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Tony, I have been by myself every year since Tali was killed. Why should this year be any different?" Ziva said, unable to keep the exasperation out of her tone. She truly just wanted to be alone in her remembrance of her most precious little sister. She wanted to sit back, look at old pictures of the two of them, of her, Tali and Ari, of Tali and their Ima...and their Abba...and toast the memory with Tali's first alcoholic beverage that Ziva ever bought her.

Ziva smiled at the memory, despite the acute pain of loss that suddenly lanced through her, yet again. Tali was still two years too young to have any in public, but there was no legal age for consumption inside the home (property owned by the parents counting) with someone of legal age present. Ziva had just turned 20 and had been legal for two years. They sat outside in the olive grove on their Abba's property and toasted Tali's birthday, the opera they saw, each other, the olives, the beautiful land, water, each other; everything. They giggled until they cried and Ziva ached for that sweetness again. The only time she ever felt a hint of that far off and almost lost sweetness again was on Tali's birthday. "I will be fine."

"You're not fine now," Tony said, stepping closer to her, invading her personal space. "And, Ziva, it's different this year because I know and I want to be there for you, as your partner and friend. Let me do this for you. Please."

Ziva looked up into his honest, clear, luminous, green eyes rimmed by those maddeningly lush and beautifully thick, long lashes and felt her resolve melt. "Alright," she relented. "My place, then."

Tony gave her a soft smile before they both got into their respective cars and drove off. At first Tony was completely certain that Ziva would drive like a madwoman, her usual, and try to lose him in traffic. To his utter surprise and concern, she drove like a normal driver. To him, this spoke volumes of how she must be feeling. He pulled in right behind her and got out, waiting.

Finally, she exited the car and approached him. Ziva looked up into his earnest eyes. "You do not need to accompany me inside, Tony. I am fine."

"I said that I didn't want you to be alone tonight." Tony shook his head slightly at her statement. "No, you're not and yes I am."

"Why are you persisting in this?" she asked, hurrying up the walk to her building.

"Because you're my partner and you had a very hard few days and I want to be here for you," he said, jogging to keep up. He scooted inside the entry door before it closed. "Don't make this hard."

Ziva sighed, slumping slightly. She wanted to be alone with her pictures and memories tonight, but she could feel his need to be there for her radiating off of him in waves. "Fine. But you let me do as I always do."

Tony held his hands up as they walked up the last flight of stairs to her floor. "I'm just along for the ride."

Ziva spared him a glance as she opened her apartment door. "Make yourself at home," she tossed over her shoulder as she headed into her bedroom, shutting the door.

Tony wandered around her living room a little, taking in the new items she had squired since the last time he'd been at her place. There was a small boxed "beach" on her book shelf. Box open, a picture of a palm tree on the inside of the lid, sand inside the box with a plastic palm tree, a couple of small spiral shells and a tiny beach towel all laid out. He smiled. She must have brought that back from Florida the last time she was there. He sniffed at it and got the faintest of whiffs of shea butter. Before this week, he would have never pegged Ziva to be the sentimental type, but he would have been dead wrong.

Ziva emerged from her bedroom in, what Tony could only guess as old clothing. She wore an olive green t-shirt with yellow lettering on it, entirely in Hebrew and matching sweat pants. She carried a photo album in her hand. Placing it on the cocktail table, she went into the kitchen, retrieving two shot glasses and a large bottle of tequila. She motioned for Tony to sit beside her on the couch.

"You wanted to know about...Tali...today is very hard," Ziva began, opening the album in her lap. She pointed to a picture of a tiny baby, obviously a newborn. "She was four years and nine days younger than me. She was a beautiful baby, almost like a doll; a perfect, amazing doll."

Tony leaned over and looked at the picture of a newborn. "She's so tiny."

"Tali was a little early. She never could wait for anything," Ziva chuckled. She reached over, breaking the seal on the bottle and pouring two shots. "Happy Birthday, Tali, my precious one," she said, downing the entire shot in one large swallow.

Tony watched her, then followed suit. "Happy Birthday, Tali." He grimaced as the strong liquor stung. "Was it just the two of you?'

She nodded. "Ari was in Scotland in Medical School at the time. He called to wish her a happy birthday, though. Eli was working, of course. He could not even spend the evening of her 16th birthday with her."

"I'm sorry."

Ziva sniffed once and turned the page to reveal several shots of Tali, some with her father and mother and some with her or Ari or the both of them. Tony suddenly understood why Ari's name often brought such a pained look in her eyes. Here he had been the smiling, loving older brother, not the cruel and sadistic murderer Tony and the rest of the team had met him as being.

"Ari," Ziva said, pointing to a picture of him holding a giggling baby Tali in the air. "He wasn't-"

"I know."

She shook her head, pouring two more shots. "No, you do not. When we were growing up I idolized him. He was my fast, smart, handsome big brother. When Eli had no time for it, Ari taught me to ride a bicycle. He taught me to roller skate and throw a ball. He sat for hours with me and colored pictures and showed me how to draw. He bought me my first beer and when Levi Goldfarb broke my heart when I was 13, he scared him half to death for me and broke his nose for me, his little sister...just for me." She wiped her nose and rubbed her face. "He wasn't a monster, not to me. I loved him. He was my brother."

"The year of Tali's 16th was the first and only birthday of hers he ever missed. He called and we all talked, but I could tell that Tali missed him terribly. I missed him." She slammed the shot down quickly. "I miss him every day. He was my brother and I loved-no, love him. I am sorry he killed Kate, truly I am. That was not the person I grew up loving so dearly. He was the brother of my childhood, the one I grew up loving, the one he and my father lied to. To me. I still love Ari."

Tony turned soft eyes to her, hurting for her. He had no siblings and did not know what it was like to have and lose one, but if this raw openness from Ziva was any accurate indication, then he was beginning to understand. "I wish I could have known him then. Then maybe_"

"You would not hate him so completely, even knowing that he was my brother and that I love him," Ziva said, pouring yet again. "I know."

She shifted, turning another page, in this one Tali was older, a toddler in a brightly colored swim suit with Ziva in a matching one. They were at the beach. "Haifa. Tali was almost two. Ima took us there on holiday while Eli was working. He came for a bit of the summer, but Ima always insisted that we go and take in the good sea air and swim, make castles in the sand and play."

"She was a great mom," Tony said softly. "She'd be proud of who you are today."

Ziva whimpered. "Not the way I got here and how many I killed. I always acted as if it meant little. After Africa, I understood. I knew. I knew how much of my soul I gave up while young and stupid."

Tony's heart began to break. He guessed, but never knew the weight of that she felt her soul bore her into the ground. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know and you were never stupid. You did these things to protect your country and to save your life. Ziva, you're a hero and should be proud of yourself."

She wiped the tears from her eyes, impotent at the rest falling. "You think; with all I have done, all I have killed, all the pain I have dealt?"

"Yes. You did as you needed. You did everything to protect everything you hold precious. Country, liberty and life." He sighed, rubbing his face again. "You have never been and are not a coward. Ziva, you aren't."

"But I have."

He sighed exasperatedly and held her hand still when she went to pour another shot. "I think you've had enough."

She wrenched her wrist away and poured them both another shot. "No. I have not had enough. You promised to allow me to do this my way, now do not go back on your promise."

Tony put his hand down and nodded. "Okay." He watched as she turned another page. "I think Tali just might have been proud of who you are today, Ziva. If you didn't learn all those skills and perfected each and every one of them, Ducky, for sure would have died. Remember that first case you worked with us?"

"Yes. The one with the Marine buried in a Civil War casket," she stated, watching him closely.

"Ziva, if you hadn't been there and didn't know how to throw a knife as well as you do, Ducky would have died at the hands of those grave robbers."

"But I did kill someone."

"To save Ducky, who you barely knew. You've saved my life more than once, and I'm grateful," he said, raising his shot glass. "I propose a toast to you, Ziva David. Thank you for coming into our lives and having our backs all these years."

"Tony, I-"

"Knock it back, sister and tell me about the next picture." He slammed the agave beverage down, watching her do the same.

She pointed to two young girls in obvious school clothes. Ziva looked to be about 9 and Tali 5. "This was Tali's first day in school. This was taken outside our building in Tel Aviv. I remember how much she clung to me and didn't want to go into her class with all the other children. She cried so hard that I had to stay and her teacher had to send an excuse note to my teacher so that she would not call home looking for me. Mrs. Rosen already had both Ari and I and knew how my father could be. My new teacher, Miss Small, had already had Ari, so she kept quiet as well. So, I stayed with Tali and helped her with her work all morning long. After lunch I went to my class and Miss Small just told me that if I finished all the morning work for homework, that would be fine and nobody would know any different."

Tony had listened very carefully to Ziva as she spoke and watched her eyes. She was far from any kind of drunk and only sharing with him what she had kept to herself all these years. He was, again, struck by how much she kept hidden from everyone. "Did your father ever find out?"

She shook her head, pouring another shot. The bottle was nearly half empty at that point. "No, because if he had, I would have been punished for neglecting my education. Eli always doted on Tali. She was the baby, the most beautiful, and the best of us."

"She looks just like you," Tony pointed out. "Look, she has the same eyes, smile, hair and that widow's peak; just like you. And you are beautiful, too."

Ziva looked down, blushing. She quickly turned a page to she and Tali dressed, obviously, for a dance recital. "Tali's and my first dance recital together. She had finally made it out of the per-ballet class into the beginner ballet class. We were so excited to finally dance together."

"Was she any good?"

"She was good, but truly had no heart for it. Singing was her talent and passion." Ziva sat quietly for a moment. "I was the dancer and she was the singer."

"To children learning the Arts," Tony proposed.

Ziva smiled at him. "Yes." They downed the next shot.

Tony watched her for a while. "You can sing."

She looked at him, clearly in shock. "What? No. No, I can not sing."

He pointed at her. "Don't lie to me, David. When Vance broke all of us up right after he became Director, he sent you back to Mossad and you went on a mission and your cover was a cabaret singer. So, you can sing."

She blushed from her hairline, to her ears to her chin. She shook her head. "Not like Tali. Abba used to say she was the Israeli Renee Fleming. I wish she-"

Tony watch, helpless as a few tears rolled down Ziva's cheeks and he desperately wished he knew her sister. "Her voice must have been beautiful."

She nodded, more tears running down. "God, I miss her so much, Tony. My baby sister. She was the best of us, you know. See this picture? It was her very first solo recital. She sang Mozart and Handel. She had the voice of an angel. I remember how proud I was to be her sister. I could see this brilliant future of her being a famous opera singer. Where Ari and I brought death, Tali could bring life and beauty; a precious thing in Israel. I wish you could have heard her. Her voice would have melted your heart. She was my best friend. She was blown up into pieces and I wasn't fast enough, I wasn't good enough to save her."

Ziva wept into her hands, heart broken for the umpteenth time with guilt and despair over the death of her sister. Tony moved the tequila and shot glasses away and reached over and held his partner in his arms, letting her cry it all out, knowing he couldn't soothe her or make it any better, but that he could be there for her in that moment and that this had very little to do with the alcohol and all about the memories.

Tony held her until she cried herself out and finally slept. He gently picked her up and carried her to her bedroom and laid her down. He carefully covered her and made himself at home on her sofa. He wasn't sure she'd welcome his presence in the morning, but promised her and himself he'd behave, cook her something good and make her laugh and smile.

This was some Thanksgiving. Tali, Tequila and Treasured Thoughts.


End file.
